


let it be a nightmare

by Ayumu



Category: Happy Tree Friends
Genre: Angst, M/M, depiction of character death, not graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4418678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayumu/pseuds/Ayumu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unheard scream echoes and echoes. This can't be true, it can't! please... let this be a nightmare...</p><p> </p><p>I'm bad at summaries so just give it a try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let it be a nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> May or May Not have a second chapter... i'm not sure yet...

He was screaming. Mouth wide open and heart breaking apart into pieces that cannot be glued back on again. Tears fell streaming down his cheek in continuos flow of salty droplets. Voiceless. He was voiceless. His screaming unheard, his vocal chord refuse to vibrate- almost as if stuck in his lungs, waiting to be released. Waiting to be announced to the world in a loud cacophony of sounds that could breaks hearts and eardrums. sound that attract attention and obtain satisfaction at voicing out his despair. of sharing it so others will know the gravity of the sorrow that had befallen him. of the light, hope, sadness, happiness, love… his everything that had become nothing. of his shattered hopes, of his darkening future. because of the absence of he who had mean everything to him. They had took him!! they had hurt him and they had make him cry! who made him into this broken shell of the man he once was … he was-is his everything and they took him. 

“Sp-Splendid, splendid! splendid!” His names tumbles out of the boy’s mouth, hands wrapped around a limp body stained red. He shook the limp body harder and harder, hoping- no not hoping, praying to anyone who’s listening to not take this person away from him. His lungs feels limited and air doesn't come as easily as it was supposed to leading to gasping breath, to air stuttering out of him sporadically. Gritting his teeth he bend his head, hiding his face in the neck of the limp body of the boy in his lap. Seeking familiar comfort of home that he used to found there. 

The memory comes rushing in, of him coming back home to the sight of the other standing in front of a stove, finishing up either lunch or dinner -depending on whether he took overtime or not- wearing the blue kiss-the-cook apron that he had bought for him. How he can just walked the ten steps it took for him to go from the door to the other boy and how he just wrapped his hands around the body of the others, always warm, always smelling of home -that detergent that they always bought from the store just around the corner of their flat, the smell of sweet cream and bitter coffee that he had every morning, the smell of the two of them mingling together, sweats and tears and blood and— and his laugh held a comfort of its own as the owner murmured a ‘welcomed back’ into his hair before he focused back on his cooking. And he would smiled, eyes closing as he whispered ‘I’m home’ into the other’s ear. Knowing surely that he is, with the boy in his arms, he always is. 

His breath gurgled, his hands shaking as he brings it up to the other’s blue hair. There was a slickness that should not be there and when he raised his hands to his eyes, he could see the vibrant red on his palms. It shouldn't be there. His hair shouldn't be red. it shouldnt- it couldn’t. he turned, tugging the other closer to him, tucking the blue haired boy into his neck in a futile (no- its not futile- its not! i can stil- he’s still-) attempt to protect the other. He curled his body protectively around the other shielding him, like how he was suppose to just minutes ago. When oxygen still pump in the other’s body, when eyes still shine bright with life, when voice could still murmured words of comfort… he was supposed to be able to protect him… this one person who means the world to him.

He should have been there. 

“Dont leave me.., Splendid don’t leave me please.” Shutting his eyes tightly, he gasped before burying his head in the others hair. It doesn't smell right. It doesn’t smell like the stupid shampoo the bluenette loved and would always wore. it doesn't feel as soft as it’s supposed to. it’s wet and its warm (for all the wrong reasons! Its not- its supposed to be- Splendid!), the tangy iron smell that polluted the air are the strongest there. The green haired boy lifted his face to the sky and scream. That voiceless scream that doesn’t echo, doesn’t vibrates the air, that doesn’t attract attention. and he scream and scream. And he can hear another person- no not another person- another him, bubbling beneath his skin, roaring out his pain and agony that refused to come out no matter how much he want it to because he does. He wants the world, and everything and everyone in it to know the crippling pain he’s feeling. As if nothing could make it better and nothing would ever make it better because his everything (his hope, his life, his home) had become nothing. Because someone and something (I’m going to KILL THEM, IM GOING TO KILL THEM AND IM GOING TO BRING THEM BACK TO LIE AND KILL THEM AGAIN AND AGAIN IN THOUSANDS DIFFERENT WAYS AND IM GOING TO MAKE THEM FEEL A TENTH OF WHAT I FEEL BECAUSE THERES NO WAY A HUMAN IS SUPPOSED TO FEEL THIS MUCH PAIN- THERES NO WAY!!) had hurt him and took him away. 

His eyes flashed green in one eye and gold in the other. The two becoming one for this moment, screaming out their pain, their hatred and just screaming because there was nothing he-they can do. Their everything lay limp on their lap. Dazzling blue closed forever, and those pink lips turned white as the blood that coloured them poured out in steady stream from the body. They screamed and screamed.


End file.
